by Lila Kane
He found his voice before she could say anything. “I thought we’d set up at the kitchen table.”
“Sounds good.”
He trailed after her, returning the towel to the counter next to the sink. He scooped the melon into a metal bowl as she set her notebook on the table. Nathan gathered two forks from the drawer before joining her.
Grace spread out half a dozen sheets with handwriting and tiny sketches covering the surfaces.
Nathan blinked. “Are these your notes?”
“Yes.”
He held back a smile and slid into the seat next to her. “Good to be prepared.”
“I think so.”
Nathan set a fork in front of her, laughing when she frowned. “Come on, it’s fruit. It’s good for you. You’re not allergic to cantaloupe, I hope.”
“No, not cantaloupe.”
“Not cantaloupe?”
“Watermelon.”
“Really?”
She waved her hand in a vague gesture. “Among other things.” He watched as she stabbed her fork deep into a piece of juicy cantaloupe. She shrugged. “Are we ready?”
Nathan pulled his laptop over from the other side of the table and turned it on. He angled it so Grace could see the screen. “Do you want to tell me some of your ideas first or if you have a general picture of what you’d like to see on the website?”
Grace gazed down at her notes for a long moment, looking as though she wasn’t sure where to start. She set aside the fork and lifted the first sheet. “Okay, well…” She glanced up at him, then looked quickly back to the pages. “Maddy and Grace gave me a few ideas but I came up with most of this myself. I don’t really know anything about websites or–”
“That’s not a problem.” He cast her an easy smile, amused when she averted her eyes again. “Tell me your ideas and if we need more, we can look at some other sites to give you inspiration.”
She slid a page between them, retrieving a pen from the side of her notebook. “Here are some topics.” Grace tapped the pen next to each word as she went down the list. “What the youth center is about, who’s welcome, additional projects we do, what’s included in the actual building…Some kind of contact information for sure. A way people can get in touch with us.”
Nathan pulled over his own pad of paper. “So contact information, phone number and email…” He jotted his own notes, including her topics.
“Email to me? Or would it just be something general to any one of us?”
He wrote down another topic and shook his head. “Whichever you’d prefer. I can give you all individual emails if you’re each going to be in charge of different things or–”
“Well, I don’t really do email. I mean, I know how to send it, but that’s it. I don’t know how to run a website or…or any of that.” Grace began tapping her pen against the paper when he looked over. He heard her take an audible breath. “I don’t even have a computer at the house.”
Nathan leaned back in his seat, dropping the pen on the table and crossing his arms. “You don’t have a computer.”
“What do I need a computer for?” Grace rolled her eyes and distracted herself with the cantaloupe again. “I used the one at the store.”
“How did you send emails?”
“The computer at the store. My phone.” She shrugged. “I was at work most of the time anyway.”
Nathan felt his lips twitch. “That’s one way to do it.”
She waved the fork in a dismissive gesture. “Whatever. It wasn’t necessary. An extra expense.”
“Well, it’s necessary now, right?”
“I suppose.”
“You might like it if you tried it.”
Grace opened her mouth and her eyes narrowed. “Are you trying peer pressure?”
“You should get a computer, Grace. You should email,” he said with a grin. “Everyone’s doing it.”
She frowned. “I know how to send emails. Dammit. You’re so irritating.”
He laughed, then straightened out his smile when she glared. “That’s why I’m here. I’ll teach you how to do everything, and you’ll feel better.”
“I still don’t have a computer.”
“You’re going to need one.” He paused and shrugged. “I have one you can use.”
“Nathan.”
“What?”
Grace gave a heavy sigh. “You can’t give me your computer.”
“I said you can use it, sweetheart,” he said with a smile, the endearment slipping out before he could help it. He continued smoothly, “Until you get one of your own.”
Nathan saw the blush in her cheeks, a hint of color he’d only ever seen there before when she was angry. Usually with him. This was much better.
“Can we work on the website now?”
He held in a smile. “Sure.”
It was a start. And she hadn’t left yet, so he considered it a small victory.
They set up an email address for the youth center, and she looked through some designs he’d created for other websites. She ultimately decided on something similar to what he’d already done because it looked clean, professional, and it was easy to navigate.
Nathan put the fruit away as she looked through more pages. He slipped a bottle of water in front of her along the way, then joined her briefly to hear some of her thoughts. Once she started taking notes again, he returned to the counter. He pulled out condiments and bread.
“What are you doing?”
He glanced up with a smile. “Making lunch.”
“It’s too early for lunch.”
“It’s not as early as you think. I thought we could take this for a picnic.”
Grace started to shake her head. “I don’t know–” The computer chimed. She leaned back, pulling her hands away. “I didn’t touch anything.”
“Email,” he answered.
“Oh.” She rolled her eyes. “I knew that.”
Grace stood from the table and walked to the other side of the island as he dressed the bread with slices of deli meat. His hands were deft, creating two sandwiches with all the toppings in just a matter of minutes.
“A picnic?” she asked.
“I know the perfect spot.” Nathan cut the sandwiches in half and put the knife in the sink. His eyes met hers. And he smiled. “If you’d like to go?”
Grace’s fingers twisted together briefly. She nodded. “Okay.”
Chapter 8
Light spilled through the mottled canopy of trees as they walked. Grace breathed in deep, grateful she’d decided to come. She stretched the kinks in her shoulders, keeping up with Nathan’s slow pace on the path.
“Where are we going?” Grace asked, stepping over a fallen branch.
They’d driven around to the northern edge of the lake, gravel crunching as Nathan parked his truck at the entrance to a grassy trail Grace hadn’t known existed.
“You’ll see.”
He led the way, carrying a bag with lunch and a blanket he’d had folded in the car, making her think the picnic hadn’t been a spontaneous idea. She was about to say something when he stopped abruptly. She bumped into him from behind.
“Nathan?”
He pulled her around next to him and set a finger against his lips. With his arm still across her shoulders, he pointed across the path. “See?”
She peered out to the field and saw a doe and her fawn grazing on a patch of grass in the sunlight. Nathan straightened and caught her hand, casting her a simple smile. “They’re out here a lot.”
The deer scampered away, Nathan’s grip tightened, and he pulled her further into the trees.
“I don’t mind coming to the youth center with you later today to help with the painting.”
Grace evened her breathing, tried not to focus on the warmth of his hand around hers, the strength in his fingers. “For the living room?”
She looked over to see his lips move in a smile. “Or the mural.”
“I thought that might be the case. I didn’
t know you could draw.”
“Probably a lot of things about me you don’t know.”
She fought a flicker of defensiveness. Because he was right. She hadn’t taken the time to get to know him.
“Here we are,” Nathan said, still keeping her hand in his.
The clearing was warm, awash in a comfortable blanket of light. At the edge of the trees she could see a house, one that no doubt sat right up against the lake like many of the others on the western side.
Between two tall, sturdy trees hung a hammock, worn from use but still intact.
“That’s my parent’s house,” Nathan pointed out, releasing her hand and lowering the bag to the ground.
“Really?”
He laughed. “Don’t worry, they’re not home. Went to visit my brother and his family.”
“Oh.”
Nathan reached into the bag and pulled out the blanket. With a quick whip of fabric, he had it floating smoothly to the ground, providing a softer surface over the twigs and grass. “If you’re not hungry yet, you can try the hammock.”
She studied it, not sure it was entirely sturdy.
“My brother and I put this here when we were younger. But after he went off to college, it was mostly Riley and I that came out here all the time.”
She took a few steps toward the hammock. It did look comfortable. But she wasn’t supposed to be comfortable right now. She was supposed to be working.
“Try it,” Nathan urged when he saw the look on her face.
Grace stood next to it, eyes narrowed. “How am I supposed to get into this thing?”
He moved as if to help her, so Grace just sat down in the middle, grabbing the sides to steady herself. She let out a laugh. “Okay…that worked, I guess.”
She leaned back, situated herself and let her eyes wander over the expanse of trees. The green canopy stretched wide, and behind that, in warm spurts of blue, lay an endless sky free of clouds.
“I bet I could take a nap on this,” Grace murmured appreciatively. To prove it, she closed her eyes and felt herself sway a bit.
“When I went to Vietnam, it was the way of their culture to take naps after lunch. So I took one every afternoon in a purple and white hammock outside the house I stayed at.”
The sound of his voice had moved closer and Grace’s eyes popped open. He peered down at her with a smile and nudged the hammock so she swayed even more. “You can take a nap if you’d like.”
“You went to Vietnam?” she asked.
He nodded.
“When?”
“When? After college. The summer after I graduated.”
There went that flicker of amazement again, and the wonder that he could continue to surprise her. She remembered the globe from the antique store, and her dreams of traveling the world. “What did you do there?”
“Built houses.” He nudged the hammock again. “Habitat for Humanity and other kinds of mission work.”
Grace tried to shift in the hammock to get a better look at him but found it near impossible. She sighed. “Okay, I’m going to stay here for a minute.”
He chuckled and started swinging her again.
“Is Habitat for Humanity the same kind of thing there? You build houses for people who don’t have one?”
“Or people whose houses are little more than shacks, even worse sometimes. Just corrugated metal and loose boards propped against buildings or trees that serve as their home. It’s…tough to see.”
Grace wiggled against the stretchy material and managed to twist her feet around and set them on the ground. “I’ve never been anywhere,” she told him, feeling suddenly sad that there was a whole world out there she’d never seen. And might never see. The world she’d dreamed about in the antique store when she’d been little.
Nathan kneeled in front of her, his knees touching hers. “Seems to me like everything you’ve been doing here in Serenity Falls is pretty important.”
Of course he had to say something completely perfect and touching, something that made it sound okay that she hadn’t done much with her life.
“You…” Grace blew out a breath and tried to stand, stumbling back some as the hammock slipped out from under her. Nathan moved smoothly and grabbed her waist.
“Nathan,” she breathed.
He didn’t let go, only lowered his chin, staring down at her with more than question in his eyes.
She righted herself and pulled back. “Thanks.”
He crossed his arms and gave her a level stare. “What were you going to say?”
“Picnic,” she said, moving away from the hammock. She put some distance between them and plopped herself directly in the middle of the blanket.
When she glanced back, she was surprised to find Nathan still standing in the same position, facing away from her. Guilt nagged at her, tugged at her heart and mind. The closer he got, the more he revealed about himself, the more Grace wanted to know about him. The more she was intrigued.
And she didn’t want it. Grace didn’t want to feel like this. She wanted things back to how they were before Grandpa died.
She sighed. “Nathan?”
He turned.
“Are you coming?”
Nathan let his arms drop to his sides and gave a nod. He even smiled, though there wasn’t much enthusiasm behind it. “Coming.”
~ ~ ~
Nathan hadn’t had a picnic since he’d gone for one with his nephew. With peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and juice boxes. It had been a long time. Too long. But even though he’d gotten Grace out of the house, away from work, progress with her was still slow. Couldn’t she see that she could trust him?
It didn’t help that he still needed to tell her about Amanda. With the deadline of finding the star looming closer, he couldn’t put it off anymore.
“Thanks for lunch,” Grace said from the other side of the blanket. She stretched her legs out in front of her, gathering every bit of warmth the sun could offer.
“You’re welcome.” He shifted so he could face her directly. “I wanted to talk to you about the star.”
Grace reached down for her bottle of water. “What about the star?”
Nathan retrieved a napkin that started to flutter with the breeze. “About how nothing has happened with you yet.”
“Nathan, I don’t want to talk about Lewis. I don’t really think that has anything to do with the star–”
“No, Grace, that’s not what I meant.”
Her blue eyes were still cloudy with defense. “I wanted you to know that I feel like I’m more involved with finding the star than you think.”
Grace’s lips turned down in a frown. “I know you’ve been here for all the rest of what’s gone on but that doesn’t mean the star has anything to do with you.”
“I think it does.”
“Just because Riley asked you to help look out for me doesn’t mean–”
“No, that’s not it. And I’m not looking out for you because Riley wanted me to. Dammit, Grace, I’m doing it because I want to, because I care–”
She capped her water and started to stand. Her eyes swung to his with a flash of anger when he caught her arm.
“What are you doing?”
He fired back with his own frustrated answer. “You need to listen to me. This is important.”
“Let go of me.”
He released her arm. “I saw my ex-wife.”
Grace eyes narrowed. “So?”
“I mean I saw her in my house when there was no way she could have been there.”
“What are you talking about?”
She got to her feet and he stood as well.
“I saw my ex-wife,” he repeated. “Twice. Once at my house and once at the youth center. The day we went to paint, after you saw your dad–Lewis–at the store. I saw her the same way Maddy saw her father and Kara saw that man at the lake.”
She didn’t respond, didn’t move.
“It was because of the star.”
“
When did you see her the first time?”
This was the part that was going to get him into trouble.
“When?” she persisted.
“That day Kara fell into the lake.”
Grace crossed her arms and her lips pressed into a hard line. She turned briefly, then jerked back. “Shit. You lied. That’s how you knew something was happening with her. I asked you, I knew there was more, but you wouldn’t tell me. You lied.”
“I know, Grace, but I felt it was the best thing to do at the time. Everyone was already so worried about Kara.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she hissed, dropping her arms and taking a step closer. “You keep saying we’re in this together, that you want to help but then you can’t even be honest.”
He reached out. “Grace–”
“Stop it.”
She dropped down abruptly and started gathering items from their lunch. She shoved them in the bag, paying little attention to what was half-eaten or not even touched yet. Nathan knelt next to her to help. Yes, he’d lied. He’d thought it the best course of action at the time, and she probably would have done the same thing. But even so, he should have said something sooner.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, Grace.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Grace–”
She stood again, snatching up the water. “Are you ready to go?”
He held in a sigh and stepped off the blanket. Before he could reach for it she’d already whipped it off the ground and begun to fold it.
“I can go to the youth center with you if you want.”
She kept her eyes down and her voice steady but impartial. “I need to get my car first.”
“I’ll run you by later if that’s okay. We’re already so close.”
Grace looked ready to protest. Instead, she turned and stalked in the direction of the car. “I don’t need you there with me,” he heard her mumble.
Nathan caught up with her in a few long strides. “Grace.”
She spun and faced him. “What?”
He took her elbow gently and turned her. “The truck’s this way.”
“Fine.”
And she was off again, her short legs taking her quickly across the grass and to the truck.
“I’d rather go with you,” he said. “I’d feel better if you weren’t alone.”
